Copycat
by francis2
Summary: A case gets personal for Mick when Beth suspects he might be the killer. Written with Jenna.
1. Chapter 1

So this is the story Jenna and myself wrote together for a challenge. The idea is all hers, I wrote the filling in between.

Disclaimer: Of course we both don't own Moonlight, but we gain only fun of writing stories in that universe.

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Prologue

You have no idea.

When I was first turned, the scope of the hunger shocked and terrified me. I never wanted this! I had other plans. Plans for a normal life, and maybe even a family. Folks I encountered thought of me as one of the good guys - responsible, dependable and with a solid moral compass, but I think that was consumed in the fires of my becoming… this. I am driven by desires I tried to control for so long, struggled to control them but I usually lost the battle. They were just stronger than me and over time, those voices of reason grew fainter and fainter as my memory of life before this existence faded into memory.

Now, I am driven by hatred, too. Sometimes I try to conceal that part of me, but I am noticing that I don't try as often as I used to. I used to want to claw my guts out to end the pain that I would always be this monster but I don't feel so bad about it any more. Okay. So, I'll always be this monster and it's their fault. They made me this abomination, then abandoned me. Gave me a glimpse of a life of control and rules to live by, only to throw me out at the first sign of failure.

Fine.

You play the cards you are dealt and for this round, I'm the dealer…

Chapter 1  
>Mick and Josef returned to Mick's loft, having left the freshie club early.<p>

"Looks like the coast is clear," quipped Josef, "I don't know why you are acting so glum. Not everyone has their own private fan club," The elder vampire was thoroughly enjoying his friend's discomfort. "After all, isn't imitation the sincerest form of flattery?"

"Then they can go flatter somebody else," Mick groused, "I don't like someone copying my style and pretending to be me. The freshies think that I'm back on tap and were all over me to bite them."

"Well, my friend, your reputation spans decades. They heard about you from their mothers and aunts. You were quite popular with the ladies back then, if I remember correctly. You stopped being fun somewhere in the late 80s. I still didn't get why."

"I changed a lot after I killed Coraline. That put a damper on a lot of things. And now someone is pretending to be me around the clubs. What if something goes wrong with the freshies and I get blamed?"

"You, my friend are taking this too seriously. In less than a month, Halloween will have children all over the world assailing their neighbors for sugar laden confections dressed as me and am I upset about it? No. What you need is a sense of humor. I thought Blondie was helping you develop one - speaking of Blondie, where is your human half?"

"Working."

"Ah, is Talbot cracking the whip?"

"No, actually Carl called her. The police have been aware of a serial killer active in the area and apparently he struck again. Carl called her to come to the crime scene. Apparently CSI hadn't even been notified and it was close so she went directly there just after midnight. I was going to help her move some of her things in this afternoon but that is off the table for now."

"Ahh. Young love," teased Josef and Mick looked irritated.

"Josef, I've been thinking. You remember when the loft was redesigned, there was room for more. I didn't need all that space and closed quite a bit of it off but with Beth moving in, some expansion would be nice."

"That's true. I had all but forgotten about all that space. Don't think I've ever seen it. Shall we do a walk through?"

Mick shrugged. "Sure, I guess. Come on." He lead the way up the stairs and turned left. He removed a panel and enough space for a whole apartment was revealed. It was empty except for cardboard boxes and filing cabinets in the bedrooms. There was an unplugged freezer in the other freezer room, in case he ever needed a spare. This part of the apartment had no access to his terrace, but had a separate entrance that was currently blocked.

"This is where I would expand the upstairs, adding a couple of bedrooms, baths and an office, at least. What do you think?"

Josef pointed to a panel with three leaping naked women. "You would throw out the artwork? At least use it for the door!"

"I can just imagine Beth's reaction. 'I'm not moving into your freshie wing!'"

"But I gave it to you as a present," Josef whined.

"I know, and I appreciate it. It was totally okay for a bachelor pad, buddy, just…"

"Hey, and it totally would fit for a freshie wing. They look like freshies, and they have wings."

"They mainly have boobs."

"Don't spoil my pun!"

"Very punny."

Josef smirked. "If Beth doesn't like it, she can live with me." Mick growled.

Josef stepped back. "Easy, Mick I'm only joking."

"So, would you take the panel back for YOUR freshie wing?"

"I have a better idea. I'll give you the information about the artist and then you can sell it to a gallery. I bet you make enough from this to pay for the renovations."

Mick nodded. That would work.

Josef turned around to walk back downstairs. "If I were you, I'd talk to her about the unused space and get her input. Let her know what is there and lay out the options. You can expand one apartment or open up a second apartment and connect them. Are you still worried about having two entrances into the living space?"

"Not really. As I recall, the paranoia came mostly from you. I was reasonably happy with the security system."

"Yes, and as I recall that security system has been breached on several occasions."

"It has, but on each occasion the weaknesses have been addressed and the overall security of the loft increased. There is a hidden exit into a utility closet three floors down that opens into a stairwell and I do have some concerns about that, but we can talk about it later."

"Good man. The reason I think you should talk to Beth is that unlike the woman from your human years, women in this day and age want to be consulted with major decisions. She might have some good input. Besides, you are not precisely Mr. Communicative. She might prefer to have her own apartment. If you decide to combine apartments later, so be it, but this way, you can each have your own space and still be together - like having your cake and eating it, too."

Mick looked at him, raising one eyebrow.

"OK, so you don't eat cake but you get my point."

"Actually, I do and it is a great idea, Josef. Thank you."

"You're welcome. In the meantime, I'll call my designer and let him know that you are contemplating some changes."

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Beth Turner knelt beside the body of a woman staring sightlessly at the graying dawn, her makeup and the post mortem lividity made her look older than her forty seven years. Her throat had been slit from ear to ear and her clothes soaked with her own blood. Beth had been at enough murder scenes in her seven months with the D.A.'s office to learn how to read one. Usually, she liked her job but in moments like this, she wished she had chosen another line of work.

The victims' hands were slashed, as well. Deep cuts into the palms of both hands that hardly bled at all.

Carl walked up to Beth. "The coroner will be here in a few minutes. What are you looking at?"

"The end of a life," Beth said softly. "Who was she? Why did the killer pick her?"

"Her name was Helene Arnaugh. She was a hooker who graduated to bigger and better things. She ran a very fashionable, upscale escort service in the early nineties until it was tied to child prostitution and pornography. She spent seven years in prison but never was able to get clear of the stigma, not that she ever tried very hard."

"I remember the case. It made national news. I thought the reason they made the connection to the vigilante slasher was because of the throat being cut."

Carl nodded. "That was the first clue, but I recognized her once I got on scene and she fit the profile of the other victims. She wasn't one of L.A.'s most illustrious citizens. I was still in high school when the story broke and I read some of the articles. I have to admit, when I think of what she put those kids through to make a buck, I don't have much compassion."

"I'll do a full background check when I get back to the office. In the meantime, I am just looking. Does it bother you that the hands don't seem to have bled very much?"

"Not really. It probably indicates that the wounds occurred after her throat was cut. I've seen defensive wounds similar to this before. The killer surprised her and slashed her throat first, then they tussled and she actually grabbed the blade as it came at her. Her ability to resist was fueled by adrenalin, but in those seconds her body reacted to the blood loss, and the blood supply to the extremities shut down to a trickle in an attempt to keep her alive. Leave it to the ME to sort out."

"Wow. You've been hanging around some medical personnel." Beth observed.

"Not really. I got it off TV cop shows." Carl walked over to the patrolmen who were establishing a perimeter.

Then, Beth saw them - two tiny holes along the line of the knife wound on the victim's neck. If she hadn't been looking there, she never would have noticed them. It added another dimension to the crime-opening up many more questions. She walked over to a convenience store and called Mick.

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"Mick St. John."

"Hi, Sweetie. We are about wrapped up for now. The coroner's office will be here to take the body to the medical examiner for autopsy. I wish there was a way Guillermo could handle this one."

"Why?"

"Because I think a vampire is involved."

"Give me details," he asked.

Beth relayed her findings and Mick called Josef. The coroner's van dispatched to the crime scene was rerouted to another call and another van responded and delivered the body to the County morgue and Guillermo Gasol.

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Beth arrived at the loft less than an hour later. She dropped her purse and coat, filled a glass with orange juice and sat down on the couch.

"So, how did it go?" Mick asked from the armchair.

"All right. I don't know how Josef did it, but the body was picked up by two vampires dressed as paramedics and will be delivered to Guillermo. Damn, those contacts are good. The victim was female, forty seven years old, her throat slashed and a lot of blood all over her, her hands slashed as well but there was practically no bleeding from her hands."

"You're thinking that the hand wounds were inflicted post mortem." Mick said thoughtfully. "I should check with G-man after he is done with the autopsy. "

"Possibly, but the real reason I called you was those tiny puncture wounds wounds here," she pointed to her carotid. "I couldn't see if the artery beneath was punctured, but it was definitely slashed. I don't think the ME will catch it - the only reason I did was because of my involvement with the vampire community - , but it might be safer having one of the Tribe on this."

Mick nodded. "Good catch. Maybe Guillermo can give us some answers, or at least verify whether the killer was one of us."

He scooped forward. "Do you have the energy to think about moving?"

"Sorry, I don't think moving this afternoon is going to be a particularly good idea. Can we do it another day?"

"Of course. I have some other ideas I want to talk to you about later anyway. I'm working a case myself and have some loose ends to tie up. You've been out half the night and need to eat something, soak in a hot bath and get some sleep. I will finish up my business and be back in a few hours." He kissed her. "You know that I love you, right?"

She smiled up into his warm, hazel eyes. "I've heard a rumor." She kissed him with warmth. "I love you, too. Call me when you've talked to Guillermo?"

Mick nodded and Beth watched him walk out of the loft. Wearily, she picked up her shoes and purse and walked up the stairs.

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An hour later, Mick entered the morgue.

"I thought I'd see you today," Guillermo said.

"So, what did you find?"

Without a word, Guillermo walked over and uncovered the head and shoulders of Helen Arnaugh.

"You tell me." Guillermo stepped back and Mick leaned in and inhaled deeply.

He frowned. "Nothing."

"Try again."

Mick inhaled again. There was a very faint scent. "It's chemical. Hard to place."

"I would have though you, of all people, would recognize it - that industrial deodorozer breakthrough from a couple of years back that wipes out all scent - even we can't read through it. She was bitten just as you thought. The carotid was punctured and she was drained in seconds. COD was indeed blood loss from the neck wound that stopped the heart. The knife wounds on the hands were made after the wound on the throat and if that didn't make them post mortem it was so close that it doesn't make any difference."

"Beth went out to this crime scene as part of a serial killer case. Are there any other crimes that fit this M.O?"

"I can check but Beth could probably give you more information than I can."

Mick nodded. "Check anyway. I am particularly interested to know if this air freshener was used. We always knew that it was only a matter of time before the effects of the compound became more widely known."


	2. Chapter 2

Helene Arnaugh was a means to an end. She had been trafficking children for decades, and had ruined a lot of lives but that had come to a grizzly end last night.

It wasn't his sire who taught him how to choose a victim. His sire didn't give a damn who the next meal was. But someone he had once called a friend had shown him a way: when the bloodlust and rage made it impossible to stay on bagged blood, or when the need was so raw even the most compliant freshie would be endangered, at least don't kill indiscriminately. There were rules: never in public, no children, no innocents.

Helene was no innocent, but that wasn't the only reason. Her death would be public and her notoriety feed the publicity around it. The crime would be attributed to the vigilante slasher again – how he loved the nickname they gave him –, it totally fed into his plans.

The man he once called friend and who betrayed him – the one who claimed to want to help him, to be like a brother, like a surrogate sire to him (even though he didn't like to be called that) started to obsess with a young woman and left him to fight for himself.

On this kill, he unleashed all his rage and pain on Helen Arnaugh and he felt cleansed when he left her corpse on the street. The feeling wouldn't last. He knew that from experience but for a while, it was enough. The adrenaline in her blood gave him an instant high from her fear and panic and you couldn't get that from the morgue.

After partially draining her, he quickly slashed her neck and her heart's last few beats pumped the rest of her blood out onto her clothes and the pavement around her. The slashing of her hands wasn't necessary, but it had become his trademark. It had been an accident with the first victim, but he decided to encorporate it in each subsequent one.

For a moment he contemplated leaving the bitemarks visible, so his so-called friend would get into trouble even sooner. But then he decided to wait until he was sure the trail of evidence had been carefully laid. Patience was another thing his former friend had taught him the value of. He didn't want his friend escaping because he got sloppy and rushed things.

For the next victim he had already planned something extra. His step-sire had been wrong about a lot of things. He liked killing. He was more like his natural sire in that regard.

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Beth met Carl and obtained more details of the serial killer case. There had been six victims they knew of so far. Generally, serial killers were identified much earlier, but this one targeted individuals that many people would not miss – predators, killers, destroyers of lives. Beth spent the day catching up on the files. She carefully examined the pictures of each victim. The ME's report on one indicated a possible neck wound that may have been separate from the slashing but could not be sure. No other reports mentioned it. That was good.

All of the killings took place at night. Two of them had possible eyewitnesses. One eyewitness, a drug addict who admitted to being high at the time, said he thought he saw a man dressed in black bending over the body but then moving away so fast that it could not have been real. Nothing could move that fast. The statement of the second eyewitness, a young woman who gave a statement but refused to sign it and never returned was inadmissible but remained in the file: "He had dark hair, his face was pale, but his eyes… his eyes were lit from within. I know how crazy this sounds. I'm not a fool, but he looked up as though alarmed long before the police car turned down the street and he disappeared so quickly I wondered for a moment if the entire thing was my imagination. One more thing – he wore a long black coat."

Beth closed the file, shivering. The air conditioning was suddenly much too cold.

After a walk to get her nerves under control, Beth returned to her office. Inside her, one voice screamed that she could not seriously think her Mick would do something like this, but the evidence was nearly irrefutable. She told herself that she had to prove him innocent before Carl read those files and made the connection. She had to be able to defend him. There was absolutely no way the man she loved was guilty of these heinous crimes. After two hours, she was beginning to contemplate the unthinkable. The next step would be to review the dates of the murders with her personal calendar. Hopefully, an alibi would be found.

September 20, 2010. Amos Chan's murder. Monday night. Mick was on a stakeout all night. He came home tired and cranky just before she headed off to work. Complained he had a run in with a former colleague who resented his activities in L.A. Another vampire private eye. Easy enough to check GPS on the Mercedes, but he could have parked and left the car.

July 11, 2010. Naomi Carter's murder. Mick was out of town in Fresno surveying the security system at a new plant for Kostan Industries. He had said that he would call her when he was driving in but lost his cell phone and didn't call her until he arrived at the loft the next morning. Once again, she could verify the car's location.

May 29, 2010. Leonard Davros' murder. Mick was house sitting Josef's freshies while Josef was in Europe at some Council meeting. Beth stayed there for dinner, then went home to her apartment once she saw how bored Mick was with the situation. A call to Josef's butler revealed that Mick was at the residence for most of the night, but had left by himself for several hours and never said where he went.

March 4, 2010. Leslie Pharr's murder. She and Mick had reservations at a nice restaurant where he watched her eat. Alibi!

December 11, 2009. Ricardo Cortez murder. Another stakeout.

Beth knew circumstantial evidence when she saw it - the lack of a solid alibi on most of the cases proved nothing. No. There wasn't much she was sure of in this life, but she was certain about Mick. It didn't matter what evidence she found. Mick would never do something like that, then she remembered Mick's own words.

"I did some horrible things after I was first turned, things you can't even imagine. Things that I carry a lot of guilt over. I want to make up for them."

Mick had always been insistent about the fact that he was a monster. What if there was a grain of truth in his words? He had been wonderful to her, but that didn't mean that he was always wonderful…

She silenced the little voice in her brain and went to see Guillermo.

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Beth walked into the morgue and pulled her sweater around herself more closely, knowing that the chill in the air was not responsible for the chill in her heart.

"In here, Beth" , Guillermo's voice came out of an inner autopsy bay.

"Is that Helen Arnaugh?" she asked, gesturing toward the sheet covered body on the table.

"Yes, and as I already told Mick, we can't get a read on whether a vampire or a human was responsible."

"Why not? Can't you just sniff?"

Guillermo grinned. Humans. "Normally, yes, but in this case, the body was sprayed with an industrial deodorizer aerosol that hides scent signatures from us. Vamps can't read through it. Not many people know about it but I found out about it two years ago from a local who wanted to keep the knowledge out of the mainstream."

"I'd be interested in knowing who told you about it. A list of people who know about it might be helpful."

"Mick told me about it. As far as I know, the only people who knew about this were him and me, and the Cleaners, of course. They use it themselves if they can't get the blood out of a crime scene."

Beth thanked Guillermo and was on her way.


	3. Chapter 3

Josef Kostan had been Mick's best friend ever since they met at one of Coraline's parties. Coraline had done nothing to ease his way into the vampire community, showing him off like a prize won at a carnival. She kept him dependent and despondent. Josef offered him freedom and helped Mick move past the bond to his sire; letting him gain control of the blood lust and learn to feed responsibly without killing the human involved. In a sense, Josef had been Mick's step sire long before he re-turned him to save his Beth from Pierce Anders.

Mick and Josef had a falling out in the late 50s when Mick, out of some misplaced sense of honor (or just the pull of an addiction), attempted to reconcile with Coraline. Josef could see the train wreck of their inevitable breakup coming and decided to remove himself from the situation. He vanished for a few years and didn't tell Mick where he'd gone.

Even though Josef didn't approve of Mick's feeding habits, he recognized that the P.I. was an important asset. He had taught the younger vampire to protect the security of the Tribe at all costs. While Josef was far less concerned about the human casualties, his friend was careful around them when he was on his own. Add Coraline to the equation and all bets were off. Generally though, Mick's beliefs made sure that accidents were taken care of long before the human public caught on.

They needed each other.

So, using his influence to get a vampire victim off the streets was just one favor of many. At the time, neither of them gave it much thought.

But it was the start of trouble.

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Any experienced profiler will tell you, the condition of a murder scene in general, and the victim in particular, provide insights into the mental state and personality of the killer. Are they calm, methodical, and calculating or driven by rage and anger, taking out real or imagined slights on the helpless victims?

During the long drive back to the loft, Beth's mind turned tighter and tighter circles around her suspicions. The details gleaned about this killer told her that this was not someone she ever wanted to meet and yet, as much as she didn't want to entertain the possibility that it was someone she knew and loved, they had already in her mind.

The slashes and the bite marks beneath, the blood and the fear frozen in the dead eyes of Helen Arnaugh told her that this killer wasn't one of the calculating ones. He was rage and anger personified. He totally abandoned all restraint during a kill and became a monster in every sense of the word.

Whatever Helen Arnaugh had done wrong in her life, it didn't condone the violence or brutality she had been endured before she died; but wait…wasn't that what vampire justice was?

No.

They had their own rules of right and wrong that differed from human rules sharply in many areas. There was little mercy in vampire justice and penalties were quite harsh. From what she had seen, they didn't go around issuing death sentences on human criminals. Except for… Mick.

He never told her about what happened to Josh's murderer, but she had seen him throw Bustos into a tree and kick his associate's head back brutally. She had seen him break the neck of the assassin in Sarah's room, had been present when he dispatched the feral doctor and he later told her that he had decapitated Sheppard. She shouldn't be surprised.

On the other hand, Mick never acted with the rage, hatred or lust to inflict pain that she had seen in this case. His was always a collected, measured response to bring someone down with as little collateral damage as possible, more like a soldier than like an angry maniac.

Could Mick have a darker side that he wouldn't let her see?

Was he capable of hurting her if he became angry? He hadn't exhibited any sign of violence to her at any time - not when he was injured with silver, not in the motel when he was dying from hunger, not on her balcony when she rejected him after Josh died, not on the rooftop when he kissed her with a desperate passion - but she couldn't help wondering if there was a limit to his control that she hadn't yet seen…

Her Prius slid into the parking spot next to Mick's Mercedes like it belonged there.

She almost wished Mick wasn't home. She was not looking forward to the conversation that they had to have, but as quickly as that thought formed she dismissed it forcefully. This was the man she loved and she needed him to reassure her that he loved her and that he hadn't been murdering people. As she rode up in the elevator, she wondered if there was a way to bring it up without letting him know of her doubts.

What if her fears in fact were true? No. She did not want to go there…

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Mick was home and she could hear his shower running. He had either just gotten up, or was from an errand. Taking advantage of the situation, Beth silently went through the pockets of Mick's coat that had been casually draped over a chair downstairs. It was wet and there was an old concert ticket in one pocket, nothing else. Glancing at the stairs and listening at the shower as it continued to run, she entered his office and smiled fondly at the paper calendar on his desk. Mick clung to several old fashioned habits and she had always found it rather sweet, but at the moment it was also quite useful. She had his own record of his activities at the times of the other murders. He had a meeting with a client later. For last night there was a short note: "Meet H. 251 Amway Street, 1 am." Beth sighed. That was nowhere near the place Helene was found, but the coroner said she was only dumped there. No clue one way or the other.

She heard Mick coming down, blushed and abandoned her snooping. She told herself that she just wanted to clear him of any suspicions, but she felt bad anyway. Still…

"Hey Beth, I heard you coming in. How was your day?"

He walked up to her and kissed her. His skin and hair was still damp from the shower.

"We have another victim of the vigilante slasher."

He stiffened. "Be careful, Honey. I don't like the thought of what you are confronted with here."

They sat down on the couch together.

"I'm tough, Mick, and you know me: I actually love the thrill. But you're right, the sight of that murder scene tonight was gruesome. Carl was so blasé about it I was shocked. How does one stand to see something like this all the time? How does a vampire live with the people he killed?"

He frowned. "Many vampires got used to it, and some even learn to embrace the beast within. In the early days after you are turned, the bloodlust is much stronger and it is easy to be driven by it during those days. That is why it's so important that a sire controls the newby during those days. Coraline did nothing to help me gain control back then. She directed me a little and showed me how to be careful, but didn't do much to show me a better way. Eventually, I learned to feed without draining the donor and even later learned that I could obtain packaged blood. It's all a matter of choice. As for gruesome things I've seen there still wasn't anything as horrible as the war in Europe, even after all the murder victims and brutality I encountered in my line of work. I try not to forget that I was human once."

Beth hugged him. "You still are. But now, you are also more."

She looked down. "Mick, I have a question, but I don't know how to ask it…"

"What? I'll tell you everything I can." A shadow flitted across his eyes and was gone.

"I don't know if I want to know the truth, if I can live with it."

"That's for you to decide, but whatever it is, I'm there for you."

She blinked, watching his face. He was perplexed about her sudden seriousness, but his whole demeanor showed only love and support.

"Did you… did you kill Tejada?" She swallowed hard.

He lifted his eyebrows. "What brought that on?"

"Just answer my question, please," she pressed.

He stood and paced, then stopped to look at her.

"I did. He was responsible for the death of a good man and your grief. So when it looked like he was going to get away with it again, I let the vampire out."

She curled in on herself as if the air had suddenly left her. He took her hand.

"Beth, what's the matter? Why is this suddenly coming up? I'm sorry for a lot of things I have done, but this isn't one of them. The world is a better, safer place without him in it. Tell me you understand."

Beth looked up with tears in her eyes. "I do, sort of. I wished him dead, too, I just didn't have the means to do it and isn't that how it's supposed to be? How do you decide who to kill and who not to kill? What gives us the right to decide?"

He nodded. "It's a hard question. All I can tell you is that I try to follow my sense of right and wrong but sometimes it doesn't work out. I try to only kill in self defense or when a vampire threatens our secret. But I will admit that sometimes I haven't entirely kept to my own rules. No women, no children and no innocents. Please, Beth, don't judge me. I couldn't stand it if you hated me."

A strangled sob left her throat and she leaned into his arms. He hugged her close.

"I could never hate you, Mick," she sobbed "it would be much easier to hate myself than you."

Something was still clearly bothering her but he let it go for now. She would tell him when she was ready.


	4. Chapter 4

Here's the next part of the Jenna/francis collaboration.  
>Disclaimer still applies.<p>

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Mick parked his car in the quiet suburban neighborhood and, keeping to the shadows, walked the last half mile on foot. An anonymous call had alerted him to this meeting, and while he had an innate distrust of anonymous calls, the information provided supported and augmented information he had received from other, more trusted sources - that Gemma Tejada's organization was reforming again after staying under the radar for almost a year. After his violent rampage at the Hollenbeck bar that took Tejada out, they licked their wounds and remained leaderless for a time, but now a new leader had assumed control of the organization and was making contacts, probably in preparation for regaining their place in the L.A. crime community.

When Mick saw the dark figure standing beside an expensive, late model sports car on the docks, he quickly and silently hauled himself onto a narrow ledge. From there, he had a better vantage point to observe the meeting without being seen. He was just on time. Two Hispanic men approached in single file, one of them two steps behind. He was probably the bodyguard.

The man at the car held up his hand to stop the approach of the other two. "I thought we agreed that you would come alone."

The man in the lead nodded to his companion who took a few steps back.

"He doesn't count."

Mick was surprised. The Hispanic drug lord wannabe was Tejada's right hand man, Bustos. How was he out of jail already? Even more shocking was the identity of the other man. It was a local attorney, Reginald Leesome. He had been accused of being dirty, but there had never been proof. Mick took out his camera and zoomed in on their faces. It wasn't easy to get a clear shot in the dark, but when Leesome lit a cigarette, and his face was briefly illuminated, Mick took his chance. Click.

The bodyguard whipped around and said something in Spanish. Bustos stepped around Leesome warily and scanned the shadows around them.

"We're being watched. Could be police, could be competition. This meeting is over. Same time tomorrow at the other place."

Leesome nodded as he got in his car. "I'll stay in contact."

They separated and disappeared in opposite directions.

Mick seethed. That bodyguard had good ears. He wished he could go after Bustos and this time end him one and for all, but he restrained himself. Back then, with Tejada, he had been driven by hot rage over the death of a good man, and Beth's anguish. Further complicating the situation was that Mick had lied to Carl, and he was aware that this could resurface at any time. While his human sensibilities reacted with horror over what he had done to Tejada, the vampire within him had taken great pleasure in ripping his throat out and drinking his blood.

He hoped Beth would forgive him.

This time, he would let them go.

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The next night Mick followed Leesome from his office to his house. When the attorney again left in his sports car, Mick followed. As they once again headed for a secluded area on docks, it became more and more of a challenge to tail Leesome without being seen as the streets grew empty of other cars except for the sports car and the dark green Mercedes. Fortunately, Leesome slowed and Mick parked the Mercedes and followed on foot.

The somewhat tarnished 'champion of justice' waited without being approached for some time and Mick stood in the shadows and watched. He had learned patience over the years.

When a shot rang, the attorney dove behind his car and looked around, thinking that he had been the target. He wasn't. Mick, his face clearly reflecting his shock as he tried to quench the flow of blood from a bullet wound in his abdomen, turned around. A dark figure holding a gun stepped out of the warehouse entrance and strode quickly and purposefully toward where Mick stood. The second shot hit Mick in the shoulder and he staggered and fell to his knees. Silver! The shooter knew he was a vampire. As the figure came closer, Mick caught a whiff of his opponent - another vampire.

"Hi, Mick!"

Mick groaned, he knew that voice. "If you plan to kill me, at least do it quickly."

Mick had no weapon on him except for a pocket knife. He briefly considered the chances of his gaining leverage should another move be tried, then remembered that the other had learned some modern techniques in hand to hand combat from him and together, the two had adapted them to the speed and strength of a vampire. Damn. The silver was clouding his ability to think.

"If I wanted to kill you I would have done so already. No, I want the humans to kill you or the other vampires. Actually, I'm fine with it either way. I just want to destroy you for what you did to me."

The gun disappeared from his hand into a pocket or a holster and Mick's assailant grabbed an iron bar from a low windowsill. He hefted it and and approached Mick.

The last thing Mick saw before the world dissolved into blackness was that bar arcing down and towards his head.

When he came to, he lay beside the sports car. The attorney was a bloody mess next to him. Blood drew a crimson path across the street to this place, so obviously he had tried to flee but didn't succeed. He was hunted down, dragged back to his car and murdered.

Mick's ears picked up the police sirens from half a mile away. He lurched to his feet and staggered toward where his car was parked. He couldn't stay here.

Through sheer force of will, he forced the silver induced lethargy back into the background but knew that it would not stay there. Good thing the clouds opened and a steady downpour started to wash the crime scene of some of its incriminating evidence. He focused on making it to his car before the police arrived. He just hoped Beth was home.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

Mick was irritated, soaking wet and oozing blood from two bullet wounds when he returned to the loft.

"What happened?" Beth asked.

"Ran into an old friend," he quipped. "Can you give me a hand with this?"

Beth was getting proficient at removing bullets, but that was not a skill she wanted to cultivate.

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather have a professional do this?" she asked him, one last time.

"No, you will do fine. Just do it. Fast. In and out. Remember the mantra, getitoutgetitoutgetitout."

"OK. Here goes."

The bullets clinked into the glass jar. She then passed him a glass of blood when she was done.

"Where did this happen?" she asked. Rinsing the probe and scalpel and replaced them in his tool kit.

"I was on a stake-out when an old enemy of mine turned up."

"Vampire?"

He nodded. "I was just watching someone and I get shot out of the dark. I suppose I stumbled across something I shouldn't, I just wish I knew what it was. If it's linked to the vigilante case you need to be careful, too."

He walked into the living room, poured some scotch into a glass and brought it to her.

"You look like you need a drink."

"Thanks," she smiled. "but now it is your turn to need a shower and some sleep."

Her phone beeped. "That was Carl. I will be back later."

"I'd really rather you stayed away from the case until I can go with you," he said.

"My hero," she grinned. "I'm just going to the office. If I go outside, I'll wear Kevlar."

"There are a lot of areas Kevlar doesn't cover," he called after her and headed upstairs.


	5. Chapter 5

The streets were still wet from the sudden deluge that drenched the city, washing the dust and smog from the air. There was no more standing water. The faint scent of ozone still hung in the air but around the crime scene, there was no smell at all. From that detail, Beth knew that the industrial deodorizer had been used once again to hide the killer's identity. Once again she, the officers who found the body and Carl Davis were the only people on the scene. Carl had been called in when it was clear this was another slasher victim.

Beth knelt beside the body of attorney Reginald Leesome. Josh had told her about him when they were still together. He had been the attorney of choice for the highly placed organized crime figures in California but now he was evidence, laying on his side soaked by the rain. Beth noticed that he held one hand clutched against his chest, closed in a fist. She gently pushed him onto his back to get a look at his fist. She opened his hand and saw the final piece of evidence. A fleur de lis pendant on a heavy chain with a broken clasp. She smoothly scouped it up and slipped it into her pocket.

"Hey!" Carl Davis shouted. "Step away from the body, Beth. Don't change the position it was in. Let the coroner's office do that."

"Sorry, I thought he might have had something in his hand," she said.

"Did he?"

She shook her head, no, waiting for him to call her on the evidence tampering. He didn't. He hadn't seen her pocket the necklace.

"Let them find any evidence on the body."

She got up.

"Carl, I need to go. I will just wait for the report from the autopsy like before. I have a terrible headache and I don't see anything here to justify staying around."

"Sure. Sorry I yelled at you, Beth. Feel better, OK?"

She nodded and drove directly to Josef's office.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

"Beth, what brings you…" Josef's words died on his lips as he read the anguish rolling off of his visitor in waves, which was in stark contrast to the lack of emotion on her face.

"Out." he said briefly and two freshies walked out and closed the door.

"I am here about a matter that concerns both of us. Mick may have told you that there is a serial killer in L.A. who has been reducing the population of some of the worst offenders in L.A.. Most were sufficiently high profile to attract the media's attention. Some had ongoing investigations and some of them have been reported and we have been investigating. The results have turned up some evidence that you need to be made aware of."

She showed him the evidence, photo by photo and the statements of eyewitnesses that was ruled inadmissible and unreliable. Finally, she held out her hand with the final piece of evidence: the necklace she found less than an hour before, clutched in the hand of the latest victim.

"Have you talked to Mick?" he asked.

She shook her head. "I didn't want to believe it. Still don't, but I don't see any way around it. That is why I am here."

"What do you want me to do?"

"I want him to relocate somewhere else under a new name. Preferably out of the country where the police can't touch him. I have told you about the evidence I altered that pointed toward Mick, but it's only a matter of time before the police put the pieces together. I am not the only investigator on this."

Josef picked up his telephone and hit speed dial, never taking his eyes off the woman before him.

"Mick, I need to see you in my office," he said. "Yes, now. This is important. You can call her later. Fine. See you shortly."

Josef got up from behind his desk and walked around to take Beth's arm and lead her over to the sofa. She sat. He poured some scotch into a crystal glass and handed it to her. She downed it in one swallow. Sitting beside her and taking her hands in his, he spoke with a kindness and gentleness that she had never heard from him. He knew how much coming here had cost her.

"Beth, we're going to get to the bottom of this, but I have to tell you that this doesn't sound like Mick."

Her eyes flared to life. "You think that I want this to be Mick? Are you crazy? I've been looking for something, anything that pointed away from him, but I can't find it. Then, the necklace. I had to come to you. I-if Mick did this, then I don't really know him at all." The momentary flare of anger from her passed and she slumped. "Maybe I should have gone to him with thisl" she said softly.

"If he is guilty of these murders, he could kill you, too," said Josef. "I have to say, Mick does not mind taking down a bad guy here and there. Remember Tejada? He didn't leave the country. Mick took him out for killing Josh."

"We never discussed that until yesterday, but I knew. Somehow… I just knew."

"Beth, listen to me. You came to me and I appreciate that. However things go down tonight, you need to understand that you're safe. You protected the Community's secret and we will protect you. I know that you are aware that I have made people disappear from time to time, but you are not in danger here. Do you understand me?"

She looked into his eyes and he read her thoughts there. What happened to her didn't matter to her at the moment.

"I know this is hard. Keep it together for a little while longer, OK?"

Beth nodded.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

There was a soft knock at the door and Mick walked in.

"So, what's the emergency?" he asked, then noticed Beth on the sofa. "Beth, are you okay?"

She nodded silently but Mick could tell she was definitely not fine.

"Mick, can you show us your necklace?"

Mick's hand went to his neck and he frowned when he didn't find it. "I must have lost it. I still had it yesterday but I don't remember taking it off when I went to my freezer this morning."

Beth jumped up. "You were hurt last night, where have you been exactly?"

He winced at her accusatory tone. "Beth, what do you… ? I was at the harbor, observing an attorney who was meeting with a member of H.E.M…."

"Reginald Leesome." Her voice was cold.

"How did you know? Listen, I had been shot and beaten unconscious. When I came to I was lying next to the body of Reginald Leesome but I didn't do it! I heard sirens and ran. Someone is trying to frame me for the murder."

Josef nodded. "We will need more to go on than that. Tell me more. Who shot you?"

Mick rubbed his neck and took a sideways glance at Beth. "This is not an easy story to tell and it's rather long. Let's sit."

They sat down on the sofa and Mick took an armchair. After a moment to collect himself he started: "The vampire who shot and framed me was Norm – Norman Caruthers. He was a former associate of mine and – something like a fledgling to me."

Beth looked puzzled. "Norman Caruthers? The guy that works with Guillermo at the morgue from time to time? That Norman Caruthers?"

"That's him."

"I didn't even know he was a vampire, he's just one of my contacts. Are you saying that you turned him?"


	6. Chapter 6

April 1992

Norman Caruthers had had a long day.

He thought that a job back home would be a simple thing after fighting in a war and college, but it wasn't working out that way.

He had joined the army out of high school and after spending a tour in Iraq he had come and gone to college on the G.I bill. He landed a job at the County Vital Records office and found himself back at the bottom of the corporate ladder, struggling to get off the bottom rung. Again.

He volunteered to stay late and do data entry to bring the new computer system up to speed. A data dump would take care of most of the records, but there were some old files that had to be entered manually. One thing the army had taught him was that there was no better way to learn how a system worked than by doing all the jobs at least once. Tonight had been his introduction into data entry.

Eleven o'clock was hardly late in L.A., but when he emerged from the office with his tie still neatly knotted and his jacket crisp, he at least gave the illusion of eager competence. He walked across the street to a parking garage where his car was waiting.

He never got there.

"Hi there."

The sultry voice of the woman was like honey. Warm and golden, it filled his senses and drew him like a magnet, but he was just too tired right now.

"Hello," he drawled, letting his attraction shine through his weariness - no harm in that. "Can I help you?"

"I'm thirsty. Wanna buy a lady a drink? I'm not from around here and I've been looking for a friendly face. Yours is nice."

Thoughts of responsibilities elsewhere faded for a moment, but only for a moment. She looked really nice and really, really hot. If only he wasn't so tired. "Look, I am really, really sorry. Unbelievably sorry, but I've been working for almost twenty hours straight and as much as I'd love to stay and get to know you better, I just can't. Trust me, I wouldn't be much fun."

"Yvette," she smiled with a tinge of regret in her voice, but neither the smile or the regret were reflected in her lovely, almond-shaped eyes.

"I'm not a pro if that's what you are thinking. I'm not selling anything." she said. "I am hungry though."

He reached for his wallet, sighing inwardly. Oh, man. There went his disposable income again. "I don't have much, Yvette, but if you need something to eat, there is a fast food place around the corner."

"Not what I had in mind," she said.

Her eyes silvered, her fangs descended and she was on him so fast the twenty dollar bill he had been holding fluttered free. There was a sharp pain in his neck as she began to drain his life and his energy away. Drawing on rapidly dwindling reserves, he somehow got free of her, feeling something warm and wet soaking his shirt. He staggered toward where his car waited but Yvette caught up with him seconds later. She was much stronger than he was. He had been good at hand to hand combat - at least good enough to keep him alive - until she attacked him again. This time he responded with her own tactics, sinking his teeth into her jaw as she leaned over him. Howling in pain, she released him and he lurched into an alley, thinking that she would probably come back. He never knew if she did or not as his heart continued to pump his blood out. He slid against the cold stone wall as his consciousness fell away.

What was she doing? Just like some kind of vam…

His heart stopped.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

Mick stood up and paced.

"No, I didn't turn him. He was a rogue, almost feral, left alone by his sire. He tried to live by hunting and killing homeless people, but he was starting to draw attention to himself and to us. In San Francisco he had a contact at the hospital who gave him blood bags, so it wasn't so hard to convince him to go back to that. He couldn't afford freshies and frankly didn't have enough control to let him near them. He got a job at the morgue with help from Guillermo. A year later, he should have been able to get by on his own and I asked him to move out and start something new but he just didn't want to."

xxxxxxxxxxxx

It was nearly dawn when he opened his eyes. He got up and walked to his car, feeling in his pocket for keys and not finding any. Swell. Well, there were always more ways to get from point A to point B than the usual methods. He hotwired his own car and drove home.

There were no wounds in his neck, but his clothes were stiff with dried blood. He would have wondered more about that but he was feeling a bit queasy.

Inside his apartment, he went straight for the fridge. Famished, he downed the rest of the orange juice directly from the carton but it must have gone bad. He tried the milk next but it had no taste at all. Must have been some power outage. The container of yogurt almost gagged him.

A soft knock at his door told him that his neighbor Shauna had heard him come in.

"Norman! What happened?"

"I was mugged by a woman," he said. "I think she was crazy – she bit me! Bit her back, though."

"Poor baby," she said, wrapping her arms around him, "let's get you cleaned up."

Fetching towels and medical items from the bathroom, she asked where he was bleeding.

He shrugged. "I don't know. I don't hurt anywhere."

"All that blood has to come from somewhere. Must have been hers. The fact that you are standing here talking to me is a minor miracle. Go take a shower. I will be right outside. You seem a bit confused, do you suppose you could have a concussion? You should go to the police."

By this time Norman had gotten a whiff of Shauna, and he liked what he smelled.

"Are you wearing some new perfume?" he asked, leaning closer.

"No. What is this? For almost a year I've been hoping one day you'd finally recognize the fact that I'm a woman so now, after being attacked and nearly bleeding to death, you find me irresistible? You, my friend are in shock. Shower now!" she said, then her eyes widened with fear as she looked into silver eyes and saw points on his incisors. His eyes changed back to their tawny brown and his fangs retracted.

"Norman, what is going on here?" She couldn't believe it. He wasn't kidding. She remembered one of the hospital lab technicians a few years back insisting vampires were real. Everybody laughed at him, and he was killed in an accident a few days later.

She told Norman about it and he took it in.

"So that is what she was." He lightly touched the pointed ends of his incisors in shock. "No, this can't be real… I'm really sorry to do this, Shauna, but I need blood and you are the only source of it here." He reached for the pretty petite blonde friend.

"Wait! I'm a surgical nurse. I can get you blood. Not just for a meal but I can help you make connections of your own. Norman, stop. We will figure this out together." She backed up to the door and vanished as fast as she could.

Norman was ravenously hungry, but he was no fool. Shauna had connections that could deliver a continuous supply of what he needed to survive now. He had no idea how to get by without her help. Wasn't there some kind of handbook for new vampires? What would happen when the sun came up? Would he turn to dust if he didn't find a dark cellar until then?

Less than an hour later, Norman had proof that he had, at least for now, made the right decision. Shauna showed up with a cooler with five bags of blood. A few days later, she came home from work with some smaller tubes of blood she had been instructed to dispose of and more bags. He ate very well.

In spite of the convenience of Shauna's continuous access to blood, he soon discovered how much he enjoyed the hunt and kill. The thrill it presented was more exciting than anything in the pale, anemic life Yvette had rescued him from. He hoped one day to encounter his sire again so that he could thank her.

He wouldn't have been able to survive without Shauna's assistance, though. She helped him land a job in the hospital morgue – he could even sleep there - but he found himself occasionally looking forward to the day when she would no longer be useful. Besides, she was part of his old life and their association was becoming tedious. In a month or so, when he didn't need her any more maybe she would have an accident. He smiled at the thought.

When it came down to it, though, he found that he didn't want to harm her. She was pinned against the wall of his apartment but he couldn't kill her. He told her that he had to leave. He could not stay any longer and said that if she told anyone about him, she would be killed.

She quit her job and was gone a day later.

He moved on as well.

He'd always wanted to live in L.A…


	7. Chapter 7

Josef interrupted Mick's monologue. "Norm was a volatile character. Mick took him under his wing and showed him the ropes, taught him the rules and explained the structure of vampire society. At first, Norman reacted really well to having a foster sire. He thought he was the only vampire trying to live on morgue blood, but found he wasn't alone. Norman spent lots of time with his substitute sire here and got a job at the morgue with Guillermo. Norm became obsessed with Mick-he dressed like Mick and wanted to become a private investigator like him. We don't worry about this for a while in a newby as it's a stage in vampires just like in human children-think of a little girl clumping around the house in mommy's high heels. They grow out of it. Norm didn't. I told Mick that once a vampire goes rogue they can't be saved, but you know Mick – you can't tell him anything."

"OK. I get that we aren't dealing with someone who reacts logically, but there is something else. What happened to make him hate Mick so much that he planned this whole operation and killed numerous people to get back at him?"

Mick sighed. "He had asked me for one last favor before he'd agree to go out on his own. I had to teach him to feed fresh. I wasn't convinced that he could do it, but he needed to learn. He had reached a plateau of sorts-he became aware of the rules but never really internalized the reasons behind them. In preparation for his fresh feeding lesson, we covered a lot of 'theory' before we got to the 'behind-the-wheel' part. I hired an experienced freshie, Candace, and had lots of bagged blood available in case I had to get him away from her. We set a date and a time: I asked Candace to come around midnight and insisted that if I was not there, Norm was to wait, play host until I got there and during the session to listen to my voice at all times. Things went terribly wrong.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

Mick had grown used to living alone. Norm cost him lots of time-time he didn't really have. His P.I. business was finally taking off after some high profile cases and good word-of-mouth advertising. Having to find the time somewhere, he cut back checking on Beth Turner. On the evening of Norm's session with Candace, something had felt 'off' and promising Norm he would be back before Candace arrived, he drove to the Turner household.

Beth was almost 18 and a high school senior. Her grades had been excellent-so good that she had already received several letters of acceptance to college applications, including one to Harvard. Living alone with her mother after her father abandoned them and the emotional vestiges of her childhood trauma made her hesitant to leave home.

That night, when Mick pulled himself up to the higher branches of the maple tree in their small garden, he could already scent her tears before he heard her voice. What had happened that made his Beth cry like that?

He sniffed the air and peered through the dark window into her room. He didn't smell despair, but lots of anger, and a residue of fear and shock. When the door to her room opened and the lights came on, Mick shrunk back into the foliage. Beth's mother entered and sat down next to the bundle of misery stroking her daughter's blond hair.

"Are you still thinking about this morning?"

Beth sniffled. "I just… I can't stop imagining what could have been. I mean, it was really close. I could have… been dead. Or injured. Or just abused. I was so lucky that the couple came by and got what was going on. I should have known…"

"You couldn't, Beth. He asked you out and you agreed to go-you never agreed to what he tried to force on you. He was totally wrong, and none of this is your fault."

"If I hadn't gone with him…"

"Beth, you're young and a bit naïve but I don't want you thinking you are to blame here. You aren't. He assaulted you. It could have happened to anyone, anywhere."

"I should have noticed that something was off. He was too…too close from the start. He wanted… "

Her mother squeezed Beth's shoulder. "Bethy, take this experience and learn not to trust so easily. Trust is good, but it can be misplaced. Next time you'll know the signs. Maybe you should take some self-defense classes to help you feel comfortable again."

"That's a good idea, mom. I just wonder…"

"What, dear?"

"I've always felt so safe, even after the kidnapping. I never doubted my guardian angel would watch out for me but today he wasn't there. Do you think he left me?"

"Beth…" her mother hesitated. "Perhaps you have imagined him. For a long time, you needed a symbol to feel safe but maybe you've grown out of things like that now. You know that the world can be a scary place. You do your best to be careful and accept the risks. It's called growing up."

Beth nodded, but her face was sad. Her mother tucked her in tenderly, turned off the light and closed the door.

Mick was in shock. He left Beth alone to take care of Norm and she could have been killed! She felt abandoned. From Mick's perspective, she had a right to.

He felt terrible. For some time, he watched the sleeping girl through the window. Would he resume his silent vigil now, or would it be healthier to let her go? Finally, he decided that the stalking had gone on long enough. Soon she would go off to college, and make a life of her own so he resolved to let her go, thinking he wasn't very helpful anyway.

Returning to his loft long after midnight, he found the living room a mess. The signs of what had occurred here clearly around him. Norm had tried to feed on Candice without supervision but had been unable to control himself. The petite blond freshie lay on the carpet, throat torn out and mauled almost beyond recognition.

Norm was nowhere to be found.


	8. Chapter 8

Mick's voice faltered. Josef picked up the narration for him. "It was the night you were 'assaulted' by one of your high school friends. Mick decided to finally leave you alone but it took some time for him to say his goodbye."

Mick scowled. "You're telling it as if I'm an idiot."

"You are an idiot. Just let me finish. When Mick came back to his loft, sore and desolate, there was a dead Candace on his floor, throat slashed."

Beth was shocked. "What did you do?"

Mick answered. "I called the Cleaner, then Josef. When Norman came back hours later I threw him out, telling him I could no longer live with someone who had no control and no regard for human life."

"That was harsh," Beth remarked.

"It was. In a way, it was my own guilt speaking. I was the one responsible. I shouldn't have tried to rehabilitate him in the first place. Do we even know how many people are dead because I couldn't accept the rule that rogues are a lost cause?"

"You should have ended it back then permanently," Josef admonished. "Look at the mess we're in now. I believe you that it's Norm, posing as you who is this 'vigilante slasher'. From his perspective it must seem appropriate that humans be responsible for your destruction, as you are so dedicated to…" he glanced at Beth and cleared his throat. "Never mind. As I once told you long ago, 'prison is not the vampire's friend.' However, the police are not all we have to worry about. When the Cleaners get wind of this, and they will, I will need proof to appease them before they issue a death warrant against you. I don't control them, you know. We also need proof to get the attention of the police off you. Actually, I think the police will be the easy part."

Beth perked up. "Mick, does Norman know about the air freshener?"

Mick stared at her. "How do you know about it?"

She smiled. "Guillermo. He knows about it and said that you were the one that told him. You were trying to keep common knowledge about its effectiveness out of the general vampire population as long as possible. If you were guilty, why would you use it? It implicates you too directly, as you are one of the few vampires who know about it."

"Yes. Yes, he knows. I told him about it when I helped him with a corpse that the Cleaners where just processing when the police interrupted them. It had no scent, and he was puzzled."

Beth released a breath she didn't realize she had been holding and ran into Mick's arms. "That's all the proof I need." She kissed him and gave him back his necklace. "You are going to need a new chain for that."

Josef frowned. "It's not enough for the Tribe. Mick, I'm going to ask you to stay here under surveillance until we're able to clear your name. Will you agree to that?"

Mick understood, but was a bit irritated that Josef didn't take his word. As a friend, he believed him, but as a vampire leader, he couldn't afford that luxury. Under the circumstances, Mick thought, he would have done the same.

He nodded. "I'll stay here. I promise."

Josef called a Cleaner team, explained the issue and asking them to keep an eye on Mick. Not entirely trusting of the stern women clad in black leather, Beth was worried about his safety, but Josef assured her he would not be harmed unless irrefutable evidence convicting him was found and Josef did not believe that evidence was forthcoming. He didn't tell her, but if such evidence were found, he had enough power to get his friend relocated to safety rather than 'ashed.' There was more than one way to protect the security of the Community.

Josef asked Beth to return to work and try to obtain more evidence on the case - talk to other investigators, comb through the reports of the medical examiners in order to help either clear Mick or divert suspicion away from him. In the meantime, he would get Ryder to work searching for an alibi for Mick that would give Mick an alibi at least in some of the murder cases - phone records, traffic cams, whatever worked.

They would get Mick out of this mess. One way or the other.

xxxxxxxxxxx

About two hours after Beth left, Mick got a call on his cell. The Cleaner glanced at him as he stood there, phone to his ear and he paled. Grabbing his jacket, he headed for the door.

Moving more quickly than any human would be able to, the Cleaner was standing in his path when he got there. "Where do you think you're going?"

"To my loft. He has my Beth! I need to…"

"Not without me, you don't!" she said flatly.

"He already called the police to meet me there. You can't show up with me."

"So it's a trap." her eyes narrowed.

"Yeah, but I don't have a choice. He has Beth." Mick ran a hand through his hair and rubbed his neck. "If I need to let them arrest me to get her free, I'll do it. You can always help me escape later, like we did with Emma."

She scowled. "We'll go with you and stay out of sight, but you are not leaving here unsupervised and your being arrested by the police is not an option. Do you understand?"

He sighed. "Alright. But under no circumstances will you endanger Beth's life."

The Cleaner gave him a stern look, then nodded. "Let's go."

xxxxxxxxxxx

When Mick entered the penthouse floor of his building, the door to his apartment was wide open and a uniformed officer was standing guard. Mick walked up to him. "I'm Mick St. John. What's happening here?"

The man stepped aside and let Mick in. Carl Davis and Ben Talbot were standing in his living room with two other policemen after searching the downstairs for evidence. Mick was glad he had locked his secret fridge, his open fridge was stocked with food for Beth, and he arrived before they found his freezer upstairs. They had been watching something on the floor but now turned towards him.

"Mr. St. John," Talbot greeted him. "I hope you can explain the presence of a dead body in your living room."

Mick stepped around the sofa. A blond woman was lying next to his coffee table, her blood oozing into the carpet. She wore a short clinging dress and high heels. Her face was hidden behind a swirl of blonde hair. Her throat and hands were slashed.

Mick gasped. He knelt down and stroked the hair out of her face. "Don't touch anything!" Carl shouted. Mick already knew that he didn't know the victim.

At that moment, Beth rushed through the open door from the hallway. "Mick! I tried to call but couldn't reach you!"

He straightened and hugged her close. "I thought he had you! Are you okay?" he released her and look anxiously into her eyes.

She looked puzzled by his concern and whispered, "I'm fine. Who had me? Norman?"

He nodded.

"No, I've been at work. He must have told you that to lure you here. The police got an anonymous call when I was with Carl and Ben going over the evidence again and I insisted they let me come along. They think you are responsible for killing that woman."

"Where have you been this morning?" Talbot asked.

"I've been at a friend's house. He and the whole staff can testify that I didn't leave from last night around 10 p.m. until 20 minutes ago, when I got a call that Beth was in danger. I am obviously being set up as the serial killer. You see that, don't you?"

Carl sighed, nodded. "Frankly, I don't see you doing something like this. I know you, man, and it's clearly not your style. Besides, who would murder someone in their own home and leave the evidence to be found like this. It's too convenient. That anonymous call just…doesn't feel right. If your alibi checks out and after the CSI team goes through the evidence, I think you'll be off the hook."

Mick nodded. "Thanks for trusting me this far. Did you see that the lock on my door has been broken? Or was that you?"

"We didn't break it, it was already broken," Talbot said. "If you didn't break it yourself laying a false trail, this must have been the real killer's doing."

Carl asked: "Do you have any idea who could have done this, and who the girl is?"

Mick shook his head. "I have lots of enemies in my line of work and I've never seen that girl before. Looks a little like Beth. Someone wanted to scare me, and Beth. It worked."

Talbot made his way to the door. "I think for now you're off the hook. Just don't leave L.A. until we check it out."

Beth breathed a sigh of relief. Mick remained silent, watching as they picked up the dead woman and put her in a body bag. Another innocent killed by Norman just to get revenge on Mick. Mick suddenly realized that she didn't just resemble Beth.

She also looked a lot like Candace, the freshie he had hired to give Norman a lesson in feeding fresh. Come to think of it, when he found her body, Candace had been laying in the same spot.


	9. Chapter 9

Here is the chapter you have probably already been waiting for.  
>Disclaimers still apply.<p>

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Like a tiger at the zoo restlessly roamed its cage, Mick paced nervously in Josef's study. Beth sat on the couch working on her laptop, focusing on task but Josef glanced up from his newspaper and frowned. Mick's obvious agitation was starting to annoy him.

"We got the police to back off. They're no longer a threat and they didn't even find your freezer, so why are you treading a crease into my carpet?"

"Norman is still out there. We don't know what he will do next! I have been wracking my brain for some way to end this."

Josef stood and walked to his sideboard, pouring himself a scotch. He opened his mouth to say something about the need for patience while things played out but he never got a chance to voice his thoughts. A butler knocked softly and announced the Lead Cleaner.

She nodded to Josef.

"What do you have, Claudia?"

"Mick St. John is no longer under suspicion by the police. The alibi for the last murder clearly shows that he could not possibly have committed the crime. There is sufficient evidence pointing to Norman Caruthers to convict him of being the vigilante slasher, if only to us. In spite of the deodorizer being used inside his apartment, we could smell that he had been on his balcony. Apparently, he didn't expect us to be there before the wind dissipated his scent. One factor continues to puzzle me-we think that he gained entrance to and egress from the penthouse apartment by the balcony, so why break the lock on the front door? It's a loose end and I don't like loose ends."

Beth looked relieved, as did Josef and he thanked the Cleaner team for their assistance.

Mick, on the other hand, seethed with barely restrained anger. "This needs to end now. The bastard broke into my home, killed a woman who resembled Beth and Candace-and I take that as a threat against Beth now. He has killed numerous people in an attempt to frame me and almost got me arrested. If it wasn't for Beth removing the necklace from the scene of Reginald Leesome's murder and Josef giving me an alibi for the latest killing, I would be in a holding cell now."

"So what will you do?" Josef asked.

"Find him and end him. He's out of control and needs to be put down."

Claudia nodded. "Well, it's about time: I'm glad you're finally seeing reason. Norman Caruthers has endangered our security with these very public murders and further put it at risk by attempting to implicate you. You should let us handle this from here. It is what we do."

"I'm coming with you." Mick said.

"So will I," said Beth.

"No, Beth. If he gets his hands on you, he could use you as a hostage or you could be hurt. Please, stay with Josef."

She nodded. "Okay, you have a point. I'm the human liability. But I'd prefer to just go back to my apartment and get some sleep. No offense, Josef, but I'm beat."

"Of course," said Mick. "I've kept you up far too long as it is."

"You can keep me up all you like, but there are more fun ways to spend the night than worrying about a vampire serial killer."

Mick smiled at her.

After Beth left, Mick collected weaponry and went with the Cleaners looking for Norman. Mick suggested that they start at an old house where Norman had lived for a time after Mick threw him out.

No one had lived there for some time, but Norman left a handwritten message on a table. "Still not enough of the chase? Meet me in Marina del Rey."

Mick crumbled the note in his fist. "He's at Beth's and I sent her right into his hands!"

They headed to their cars in grim silence.

xxxxxxxxxxx

When they arrived at Beth's apartment, the sunlight was far less strong. It had already sent fingers of vivid colors across the sky that were fading rapidly, but it was not yet dark.

Remembering Claudia's words about how Norm gaining entrance to his apartment, Mick looked closely at Beth's small balcony, There, in the gathering shadows stood a man dressed in a long black duster with dark curly hair and Beth. Apparently, Norm wanted to be seen and recognized as Mick St. John. Without a word to Claudia, he jumped directly onto Beth's balcony and it paid off.

Norman whipped around, surprised by Mick's sudden appearance. He had Beth in his grasp, one arm holding her tightly against his chest while the other held a serrated knife to her throat.

"Don't come any closer, Mick!" he warned, then smiled as something occurred to him, "Or do. Give me an excuse to add your friend here to the vigilante slasher's body count." he inhaled deeply, his nose in her hair. "She smells really, really good."

Beth's eyes pleaded with Mick. He gave her a reassuring nod.

"I'm here now, Norm. You can let her go."

Norman considered. "No, I don't think so. So this is the little girl you rescued-all grown up. Are you still pretending to be her protector? What about me? You promised to help me learn to control my appetites, to teach me to function in vampire society but you threw me out. Do you have any idea how it feels to be abandoned, time after time. But then again, you don't really care. You were very clear on that point. You left me alone with Candace when I needed your help. But…hey, I will give you another chance. I'll bite Beth here and maybe this time you will find the time to help me stop…or you'll try."

Mick flashed his fangs. "You won't touch her. If you think you were in control back then, why did you kill Candace? Why didn't you wait for me?"

Norm didn't answer that question, but he answered another question that weighed heavily on Mick's mind.

"I finally understood the reason I had so much trouble controlling myself. I don't want to! I don't want to be like you! I thought I did back then, but not now. This is what I am and I like it. I remember how you used to talk about wishing you could be human again. Not me. I wouldn't want go back to what I was. You need to pay for the pain you caused me and for the years I tried to be something I didn't want to be. It's only fair."

Distracted by Mick, Norman never noticed Claudia and the other Cleaners positioning themselves on edges of the balcony where he could not see them and on the other side of the apartment's front door. The door burst open and Cleaners entered from both directions. Taking advantage of the momentary distraction, Mick lunged for the knife and pushed Beth out of the way.

When Mick turned to see if Beth was okay, Norman jumped him. A fight between Mick and Norman should not have been as even as it was, but Norman knew Mick's fighting style and was used it against him at every opportunity. Mick crashed Norman into the sliding door and they fell into the living room in a mess of shattered glass and wood fragments. Norman, getting out from under Mick, punched him in the face then searched for a wood fragment that was long and pointed for use as a stake.

One of the Cleaners grabbed Norman from behind, trying to shackle his arms, but he twisted out of her grasp and jumped across the room. Mick got to his feet and they grappled again. It occurred to Mick that the Cleaners were hanging back, letting Mick take the lead in the fight, then he realized that he needed to. They realized it, as well.

Mick thought briefly about the time Norman had been a friend, but he resolutely pushed those thoughts away. This was not the time to consider that. An instant of hesitation could get him killed. It could get Beth killed.

The fight wore on. Norman got a mouthful of Mick's shoulder and started to drain him. Claudia started to step in with a silver tipped stake in her gloved hand but Mick insisted she hang back. Weakened by the loss of blood, Mick couldn't get the leverage he sought to throw Norman off, Sensing victory was close, Norman contemptuously threw the weakened vampire against the wall and turned his attention back to Beth. Once they had a clear shot, several of the Cleaners fired silver darts into Norman. He stumbled and fell.

Claudia was fastening silver shackles on Norman before Mick could blink and several of the Cleaners led him away.

Mick shook his head to clear it and accepted a bag of blood Claudia handed him.

He didn't accompany the Cleaners. There was no need. He knew what was coming next and didn't particularly want to witness it.

Pulling Beth into his arms, he hugged her until her trembling began to subside. "Are you going to be okay?"

"I am now - are you all right?"

He nodded and she drew a shaky breath and looked around at her apartment. "Not that I'm complaining, but this place looks like a war zone."

There were a number of the Cleaner's silver tipped darts in the walls, the sliding door was smashed, drapes lay on the floor, several pieces of furniture had been destroyed and the lock on the front door was broken, the solid door itself had been cracked.

"We'll take care of the damage," said a Cleaner, and Mick nodded.

"About that – why don't you pack up a few things and stay with me. I have some plans to expand my apartment. The Cleaners will fix your apartment up so well you'll probably get your deposit back."

She looked up and grinned. "I love your plans, but if you are going to be remodeling, too, where will we live while all this is going on?"

"We'll figure something out." Mick said smiling down at her.


	10. Chapter 10

This is the last chapter. Working with Jenna has been a great experience. I hope you like the story as it is.

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Mick and Beth returned to his loft. The 'crime scene' tape had been removed from the door, but the faint mark where the adhesive was remained. He would get that off later. Inside, they noticed the chalk outline where the body on his carpet had been. At least they had managed to get the blood stains out. Mick didn't want to have that chalk reminder on his floors. If the chalk didn't come out completely, he would have the carpet replaced.

Beth stood at his shoulder, and he sensed her tension. She had seen it before he arrived.

"Come on," he said, smiling and taking her hand. "Prepare to be amazed."

He led her up the stairs to a door at the end of his hall. He unlocked it and pulled her through to the other upstairs rooms and to the rest of the apartment. Beth was clearly delighted with the options open to them.

While Mick and Beth were pondering the future of their cohabitation, Ryder England was at work clearing up Mick's calendar and fabricating evidence that provided even more alibis to the vigilante slasher murders.

At Beth's apartment that had gone largely ignored for days, the Cleaners with their usual quick, silent efficiency, had removed all signs of the violent end of the true vigilante slasher.

Mick and Beth visited Josef to go over the last days and make sure they weren't forgetting anything.

After about an hour, the details had been covered.

"I really wanted to help Norm, but it didn't work…" Mick acknowledged, staring into the amber liquid in his glass.

"Ya think?" Josef asked. "but if you learned something here, then it wasn't a total loss… Now that you understand that rogues can't be rehabilitated -"

"Now I never said that. What I said was that I tried to help Norm and it didn't work. That doesn't mean that something else wouldn't. We all know that the early days as a vampire are tremendously important. Someday, someone will find a way to bridge that gap for rogues."

Josef sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Please tell me you aren't going to try this again."

Beth rolled her eyes. "Josef is right. You may be an idiot, but you are my idiot."

The look in her eyes totally took the sting out of her words.

Once Mick promised not to bring the next rogue he encountered home with him, he and Beth turned to go.

"Beth, can I talk to you for a minute?" Josef asked, not looking at the couple.

She looked at Mick and he shrugged. "I'll get the car and pull it around."

She nodded and he closed the door as he left.

"I guess this evens things between us," Josef said.

Beth frowned, not understanding. "How do you figure that?"

"I took care of Dean Foster for you and you protected the tribe by coming to me with the evidence you found on Mick."

"Which turned out to be bogus," she said, still visibly relieved. "Actually, we were even when I spotted the vampire bites on Helen Arnaugh's neck and called Mick. You got Guillermo involved instead of another medical examiner. When I came to you about Mick, that was an entirely different matter. I thought he was guilty and that you could convince him to relocate before the police caught on to the carefully planted trail of 'evidence' against him. I wasn't thinking of protecting the Tribe as much as I was protecting Mick. You were the one who told me that it didn't sound like him. You're responsible for us getting this sorted out, Josef, and I owe you for that. That means I am still in your debt."

"Leading directly into what I wanted to talk to you about. You have been around us long enough to spot the signs of vampire activity and you helped us keep off the police's radar when you called Mick about those bite marks that weren't entirely hidden by the slashes. Your quick thinking kept things from getting even messier than they did. You want a way to even the score?" he asked. "Keep doing it."

Beth nodded and walked out into the night. She paused outside the front door of Casa Kostan just enjoying the warm California night. The last week had been so stressful, she had not been enjoying much lately, but at that moment she had one of those 'God's-in-His-heaven-and-all's-right-with-the-world' moments. Everyone calls it something different, but it was a moment of quiet satisfaction with life. A gardenia bush, the favorite flower of one of Josef's freshies, was blooming nearby and she inhaled deeply, enjoying the sweet fragrance. The delicate white flowers were tempting, but she remembered that if you touched one of the lovely blossoms, an ugly brown spot would form from the oils in your hand where you touched it. An apt picture of Norman Caruthers. The lives he touched were damaged or destroyed by his contact, but they were lucky. They would be all right.

The Mercedes slid to the curb. She waved at Mick and walked quickly to the car

"What was that about?" he asked as she slid into the passenger seat and fastened her seatbelt.

"Josef wants me to keep an eye out for evidence of vampire involvement in crimes and notify either you or him."

"You told me you were going to do that anyway."

"I know, but apparently you didn't say anything to Josef." she said. "Don't tell him, okay? We owe him for helping unravel this frame and he said this is how I could repay him."

Mick laughed. "Next poker night, you have got to come with me!"

xxxxxxxxxx

The D.A.'s office was closed for a three day weekend and Mick and Beth spent some much needed time alone at one of Josef's many beach houses. Beth learned that the beach at night had a beauty all of its own that was made even better by being able to share it with Mick. The sand was deliciously warm under her feet as they took a long walk into the night. One night, they stayed out almost until dawn but were still unable to see the stars-the city lights hid them, even out here.

They needed to talk about what had happened.

"Beth? Honey, I understand why you have been so upset, so distant," he slid an arm under her elbow.

"How can you not be upset?" she asked, turning to face him. "I thought you were the serial killer," she paused for a breath and then continued on, the words rushing out like a flood. "After all I know about you, after all you have done for me, I doubted you. I thought you were capable of… of that."

"Beth, I am capable of that. I just don't happen to choose to go that way", he said. "I understand. All those pieces of evidence were intended to convince the police that I was responsible for those murders. It might have worked had it not been for you. Had you not taken the evidence to Josef, and covered other evidence pointing to me or another vampire, it probably would have worked. Sweetheart, you are an intelligent investigator who followed a trail that was put there specifically for an investigator to find. We were just very, very lucky it was you who found it and went to Josef."

"How can you not be mad at me? I'm angry that I didn't trust you."

"Beth, I could tell you were upset about something and when I tried to ask you what it was, you wouldn't talk to me. I knew you were very conflicted and confused, and while it hurt that you didn't confide in me, I trusted you to work through whatever it was and you did. I know you Beth. You didn't want to believe it was me when the evidence mounted up - and I have to confess, my own secretive behavior was partly to blame for your suspicions - you did the right thing."

Mick fell silent as he stared out over the tops of the trees into the distance.

"I was just wondering… what did you think Josef was going to do? You had decided for a moment that I was guilty."

"I thought Josef would convince you to relocate. Get out of L.A., and start over with a new identity somewhere else." she said. "I was afraid to talk to you. The evidence I saw painted a picture of someone I didn't know."

"If I had stayed with Coraline, I could have become that person. I was for a while but I discovered I liked who I was more when I saved people than I did when I killed them. The truth is, if I had been guilty of those murders, Josef would have killed me. Remember Emma and Jackson? Same thing. Emma threatened to expose the Tribe. The murders left so many clues leading to me I'm not surprised that you got suspicious. Josef would have taken me out because it would be his job to do so. Josef and I are close friends, but don't ever think that Josef would protect me in a case like that. "

"Then, I almost got you killed," That did not make Beth feel better.

"No, Beth. No. Josef knew the players here. He knew it was Norm right away, but needed to ask me about the necklace because the evidence was so damning. He recognized most of the details by what you showed him but he was aware of motives you had no knowledge of. When he called me to his office and asked to see my necklace, if I had not been able to produce a very good reason why I was not wearing it, there would have been major trouble. However, he was able to see past the planted evidence and the frame fell apart. Norm knew enough about the way I work to leave details at each murder scene that would lead directly to me. I'm willing to bet that the 'eyewitnesses' can't be located or have ties to him..."

Beth was not ready to let herself off the hook yet. She was ashamed of herself for doubting Mick, regardless of his obvious forgiveness.

"I didn't want you to be guilty. I can't tell you how much I didn't want you to be responsible but with the evidence I had, I didn't see any other explanation. I knew that Josef didn't view killing humans as I do and as you were close friends, I didn't expect he would hurt you in any way. I thought he would convince you to relocate to another city with a new identity. I have realized that a vampire that endangers the security of the Community is an unacceptable risk. I just never thought he would do that to you."

Mick nodded. "You wanted to think that way, but you know how things work now. You called it -unacceptable risk. Emma and Jackson were our friends. You need to be absolutely clear on this. No one gets a free pass here."

"I can't believe you are so calm about it. I almost got you killed!"

"No, you didn't. I wasn't guilty. Oh, it was a good setup and it would have fooled the police in a heartbeat, but it wouldn't have fooled vampires for long. His game was to force us to react without taking time to sort out the truth from the lies."

"Are you going to tell me that if you came on a crime scene with a dead body clutching my necklace in his cold, dead fist; long blond hairs on his jacket and several Ghinnelli dark chocolate wrappers littering the ground you wouldn't think it was me?"

"Nah. If that was all they had it wouldn't be enough," he grinned at her and tapped the side of his nose with his index finger. "Mobile vampire lab, remember?"

"I still feel like a traitor," she said.

Mick chuckled. "Give yourself a little credit. You bought into the carefully misleading evidence and came to the conclusion he intended you to, but he didn't plan on you altering evidence and covering it up to protect me and the Community. Honey, I am a proponent of 'trust, but verify.' The reason I am not a monster is because I don't want to be one. In a way, when I saved you, you saved me from being that monster. Had my marriage to Coraline not ended that night, I may have become someone that commit murders like that."

"What happened to Norman?"

"You don't want to know," he said. "In the next few days, Josef should have evidence planted to implicate the real guilty party-he'll just never be found. You think you could stall the investigation while we get the details in place?"

"For a couple of days? Probably." she said.

"Something is still bothering you. What is it?"

"This won't make much sense, being out here with the sounds of the waves pounding on the surf I thought about a poem I read back in junior high school, Matthew Arnold's poem, Dover Beach. Have you ever read it?"

He grinned. "Actually, I have. I didn't discover it until later, though." he wrapped his arms around her from behind and held her close. She heard the deep velvet of his voice recite the words that had been playing in her mind.

"The sea is calm tonight.  
>The sea is calm tonight,<br>The tide is full, the moon lies fair  
>Upon the straits; on the French coast the light<br>Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand,  
>Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay.<br>Come to the window, sweet is the night air!  
>Only, from the long line of spray<br>Where the sea meets the moon-blanched land,  
>Listen! you hear the grating roar<br>Of pebbles which the waves draw back, and fling,  
>At their return, up the high strand,<br>Begin, and cease, and then again begin,  
>With tremulous cadence slow, and bring<br>The eternal note of sadness in.  
>Sophocles long ago<br>Heard it on the Agean, and it brought  
>Into his mind the turbid ebb and flow<br>Of human misery; we  
>Find also in the sound a thought,<br>Hearing it by this distant northern sea."

Mick blushed. "I can't remember the next part."

Beth smiled and continued.

"The Sea of Faith  
>Was once, too, at the full, and round earth's shore<br>Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furled.  
>But now I only hear<br>Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar,  
>Retreating, to the breath<br>Of the night wind, down the vast edges drear  
>And naked shingles of the world."<p>

Mick fell in again:

"Ah, love, let us be true  
>To one another! for the world, which seems<br>To lie before us like a land of dreams,  
>So various, so beautiful, so new,<br>Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,  
>Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;<br>And we are here as on a darkling plain  
>Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,<br>Where ignorant armies clash by night.

Did you learn that at school like I did?" he asked, his lips against her ear.

"Yes, and I loved it since," she said. "We almost didn't make it, you know."

"I know. But we did. You have called me your guardian angel, but the more I think about it, maybe we are each other's guardian angels."

Beth wrapped her arms around his that were around her waist. "So you really forgive me?"

"Yeah-but if you really want to make it up to me I'd let you spoil me for a few months."

"Sounds like fun," she smiled.

"So, all's well that ends well?"

Beth frowned. "You are being awfully chipper about this whole unpleasant affair."

"You think so?" Mick asked. "You may be right, but because of the severity of your failure to trust, I've been thinking that you will probably work hard to make it up to me for what…about six months?"

"One month."

"Four months."

"Don't push it, Buster," Beth said. "Three months and that is my final offer."

"Then I'll take it."

Beth reached out and pulled Mick toward her by the lapels of his duster and kissed him.

finis


End file.
